


A Friend with Breasts and all the Rest

by zaychik



Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 15:25:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6571501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaychik/pseuds/zaychik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Queen Etheria and Phantom Limb settle their differences in the only way two emotionally stunted supervillains know how.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Friend with Breasts and all the Rest

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the VB fanfiction meme prompt, "Phantom Limb uses his killer hand powers for sexual purposes."

Hamilton never set out to boast, but when one had Queen Etheria by his side, the questions were bound to come up. After the girls had gone off to smoke and gossip, a wink and a nudge over the night's last drinks. Supervillains were not known for their tact. He never encouraged it (he told himself he didn't, at least) but he never exactly discouraged it either. When pressed for a story, he told the same one each time. 

The first time was on the balcony of his private suite at the Hotel Plaza Athénée Paris on an unbearably hot July afternoon, after a few glasses of champagne and some delightful almond pastry whose name long escaped him. He pulled up her new Queen Etheria costume and took her with all of Paris laid out beneath them, until she screamed out his name-his real name-so loudly that the staff sent someone up to check on their welfare. It's a good story, and it's only mostly a lie. 

It had been unbearably hot that afternoon but there was no costume to take off because she was still just Sheila then, a little bird of a girl in a crisp white sundress. It was on the balcony (at his newly completed home in Malice) but she didn't scream anything, and he never repeats what she actually did say. 

There are other things he doesn't mention, like the way she clamped one hand over her mouth in unconscious habit, smothering the whimper she made until he gripped her by the wrists and the literal shock of it made her cry out loud in that unbearably sweet, hopelessly broken voice. 

It was their little private game now: touching but not touching, innocently brushing up against her while she did the laundry, pushing her hair away from her face with one hand and coaxing a shaky moan out of that perfect mouth with the other on her thigh. Playing dumb to where his fingers grazed until he saw her biting her bottom lip. On any given day it was a meaningless diversion, prolonged foreplay or their way of apologizing to one other. 

On this particular day Phantom Limb wasn't sure which it was, nor did he really care. It was late in the afternoon and she had curled up beside him on the sofa, half watching some awful music program while he flipped through a travel magazine he had already read a dozen times. They could almost resemble a normal couple enjoying a Saturday together, if one of them was not a floating torso and the other, a girl in a dress made of gauze and double-sided tape. 

Queen Etherea was playing innocent as she reached over him to grab the television remote, her arm lingering just a fraction too long for it to be accidental. The faintest current sparked across her skin and she put on a wonderful show of not noticing, but she couldn't hide the faint blush that rose on the back of her bare neck.

"Did you know Milli Vanilli means 'positive energy' in Turkish?" 

"I'm absolutely certain that's not the case."

"Oh, so you speak Turkish now." 

"I apologize, are French and Italian insufficient? Too passé?"

She shrugged, deliberately looking forward. "Say something in French and I'll tell you."

He brushed her hair back behind one ear and she startled a little. How did she never expect that? More goosebumps, and a faint shudder.

"Je n'ai jamais aimé que toi, mon gentille fille. Je peux goûter le parfum que vous portez, mais...je te aime encore. M'apprécies-tu?"

She cocked her head. 

"It means you have an absolutely magnificent backside, and I'm sorry I haven't seen it more often as of late."

Sheila smiled. It was the same look she gave him in college when she had to bend down to pick up the pen he dropped, like she thought he did it on purpose. Really it was that the right hand got temperamental after anything more than twenty minutes grading papers, but it didn't hurt to let her flatter herself. 

"You could see it more often. Let me go to Paris with you next month."

"It's strictly guild business, you would be bored to tears." 

"Not if you actually gave me something to do."

"Sheila..."

"Hamilton."

She sat up and straddled him, playfully reaching for where she thought his wrists were and missing both. He reached up and used the leverage to grab her and pull her in for a kiss, which she resisted.

"Take me to Paris. Or London. Or like anywhere, to do anything besides sit around memorizing the schedule on the VH-1."

It wasn't as easy as that. It was one thing when it was for business but simply put, the idea of going on an real vacation did anything but relax him. He had no way to explain that to her however, so he turned his attention to breaking down her defenses via a subtler route.

He started at the sensitive spot just below her clavicle, watching her face as his hand traced over her breasts, down her rib cage and then slipped even lower. It glowed light blue, almost white when he was being gentle. He looked down to actually watch his fingertips stroke lazy circles across the front of the very small thong she was wearing under her costume, and felt her grind faintly against his hand, whimpering each time he turned it down slightly just to watch her squirm.

For a minute they went back and forth that way, Queen Etheria kissing him fiercely, gripping him with her thighs and digging her nails into his back, Phantom Limb withdrawing the one thing she wanted again just to see her reaction. As they play fought, he could see red welts forming on the small of her back where he held her tightest, their private version of a love bite. There were more on her neck and the backs of her thighs, she would be covered by the end of the night. 

She was trying not to moan and failing miserably, and Hamilton couldn't help but smirk as he heard her breath catch...and he withdrew his touch, gently pushed her off his lap with a gentle kiss on the forehead. No, he wasn't done yet. They had dinner plans at seven and there was nothing so amusing as watching her try to drink a glass of wine and carry on a conversation in a crowded restaurant with his hand up her skirt the whole time.

While she sat stunned, glaring at him in frustration and mild outrage, he reached over and stole the remote back from her. 

They would in fact discuss it at dinner. Maybe she would figure out a way to convince him after all, but for now he had won, and it was a very gratifying feeling.


End file.
